Twisted Hearts
by foodaddict
Summary: AU—Kurama is the senator's son, Keiko is his fiance, and Hiei is a gang lord with a grudge. What happens when he decides to get even, and how are Yusuke, Kuwabara, and Shizuru mixed up in this? R&R please! D P


**Summary**: AU—Yusuke and Kuwabara are the proprietors of a security specialist agency (read: bodyguard corps.), Shizuru is a doggedly-determined detective for the local police force. Kurama is a senator's son who will soon be running for office, and Keiko is his fiancée. Hiei is an underground organization boss with a grudge. What happens when he decides to get even and they all get thrown into a labyrinth of malice, deceit, and—love? Hehe—awful summary, I know, but please R&R anyway! ;D As for who everyone else are in the story...well, you'll have to find out. :D

**Pairings**: Secret. Gee—I just had to segregate a portion for something I'm not going to reveal. Heehee...please don't hurt me. ;;)

**Author's Note**: To clarify things, everyone is human here. :D Please R&R! I think I'm going to try something everyone else seems to be doing and won't update until I get enough feedback to let me know what exactly I should or shouldn't be doing. :D This is spur-of-the-moment—I'm hoping it won't be as obvious. I wouldn't like flames, but I welcome _constructive_ criticism. I know it'll be a bit hard to understand, but I promise with the next chapter things will be a whole lot clearer. :D

**Prologue**

_"P-Please! Don't! I-I'll do anything, jus—"_

A shriek pierced the air, followed by the spatter of a good amount of fluid as a sword plunged into the old man's frail chest and ripped its way up the rest of his body. The fluorescent light that dangled low from the ceiling flickered and began to swing slightly as it was hit by a mild shower of blood.

Calmly blowing a weave of smoke into the air, the detective lifted the remote and began to rewind the tape. From behind her a tall young man shifted uneasily, the light from the television screen further illuminating his eye-popping carrot-red hair.

"Shizuru," he began hesitantly, his eyes straining to gather the extent of her movement from where he stood. "You've been watching that recording for three whole hours now." When she remained still in her chair as the recording began to play from a particularly gory scene, he cast a disgusted glance at the screen and put more of his emotion into his convincing. "For Kami's sake, how long can you stand it?" _I know I reached _my _tolerance limit after the third time_, he thought to himself.

The only reaction he received for his concern was a swift flick of her cigarette over the ashtray on the coffee table.

"Kazuma," came a soft, warning voice from his side.

Hagiri Kaname was a young detective who had once been Shizuru's sidekick. Now a decorated law enforcer with his own reputation to see to, it was a rare occurrence to see him within the vicinity since he had been given an offer in Tokyo. With a faded pare of Levi's, a plain white tee, and a red jacket, he almost passed off for a teenager, were it not for the world-weary, serious expression in his peculiar light magenta eyes and the dark shadows beneath them. Leaning on the doorjamb, he angled his head to the left, where Kazuma Kuwabara assumed his partner was waiting for him.

"I told him three _thirty_," he muttered under his breath, checking his watch. Casting a worried look over his shoulder, he turned back to Hagiri. "Will you talk to her, please? She hasn't let go of that damned recording since she got her hands on it and—"

Raising his hand and nodding to show he understood, Hagiri pulled away from the doorjamb and stepped aside to let him pass. He remained still for many minutes after the door had closed behind his former mentor's brother, surveying the screen impassively as he watched an old acquaintance of his get tortured and gutted.

"I heard the news but didn't think the source reliable," he commented as the scream faded into the room and the screen blurred. After three hours of straight viewing, the woman in the seat did not lift her hand to rewind it. She simply sat there, smoking her cigarette, her figure almost serene in its repose. Tucking his hands into his pockets and comfortably moving forward, he mused aloud over what he had seen. "It's a pity. Ichigaki was reforming, the last I heard."

Coolly, Shizuru Kuwabara ground the half-consumed cigarette into the ashtray and leaned into the chair, still staring at the screen.

"He gave us the cure," she said quietly. "And information as to how they spread the disease."

The Sniper's brows drew together at this. "I read in the papers that all those afflicted are still under quarantine because there is no cure."

Shizuru shook her head, leaning on one arm as her fingers came to rest pensively over her mouth.

"That was a lie. It was our idea." Hagiri made no move to comfort her as her gaze sharpened and the light flashed onto the moist sheen over her eyes. Her voice soft she continued, no more echo of pain in it as it was blatantly displayed in her eyes. "So that they wouldn't suspect."

"That Ichigaki was helping you? Why _was_ he in the first place? _They_ got him out of the prison that _we_ tossed him into."

"We said he was mad—and perhaps he was when he insisted that the water he had engineered was the 'Spring of Life' when instead it killed hundreds. But sometime during his stay in prison he stepped out of denial and admitted his mistake. The guards told me."

"The suicide attempt, you mean? I'd always surmised it was because he couldn't escape and dreaded the lethal injection in store. Ichigaki was a doctor, but he himself despised injections."

Shizuru was only half-listening. She went on as though he had not said anything, as though explaining it all to him was vital. "He saw an opportunity to make it up to the city when they busted him out. We always assumed that he had engineered the disease the way he had the 'Spring of Life' when it turns out they already had the various strains ready. Ichigaki was only to ascertain its potency—give a medical opinion of how quickly it would wipe people out."

Intrigued, Hagiri settled onto the nearest seating available—an ottoman—and leaned forward. "Did he?"

"Yes and no. He checked the strains but told them it would give a long, drawn-out demise instead of the vicious and swift assault on the population they'd hoped for. They seemed to favor this because of the added suffering it would bring and the more dramatic, chaotic upheaval. They wanted to see us squirm in panic, wondering who would be taken down next. While they were busy engineering a means to propagate it, Ichigaki modified the strains to more or less fit the assessment he gave them. Fatal only when left unattended, it did manage to hospitalize a fourth of the city. The media hype only served to give credence to Ichigaki's assessment, and they sat back to enjoy the show not knowing that Ichigaki was already passing us the cure and letting us know how they were spreading the strains."

"How were they spreading it?"

Shizuru's lips twisted in a mirthless smile. "It's actually quite clever, if you think about it. It was Fitness and Health Month, remember?"

Sniper tugged his ear, a low whistle leaving his lips. "The vaccinations? Kami, no wonder the sick are mostly teenagers and kids!"

"And when the first bout hit people went running to get shots to prevent the illness, not knowing they literally signed themselves up for it. They wouldn't have gotten it otherwise. It needs to be transmitted directly into the blood."

Hagiri paused, digesting the information even as his mind sought more. "How did they latch onto Ichigaki?"

"That's what we don't know. What we do know is that Ichigaki was to keep up the charade as long as he could and gather as much information as possible. It's why we made everyone believe that the quarantine is still up. The discovery of a cure would mean answers to the disease as well as inquiries as to who came up with them. Even if we put our most brilliant doctor up on the podium we were very certain they would suspect a leak. The moment he learned something substantial, he was to report to me and we'd break the news of the cure. We—" she swallowed the word and closed her eyes—"_I_—promised him protection from them as soon as they became aware of his turncoat."

Complete sympathy and understanding filled him as her words confirmed his suspicions, but he voiced neither out loud as she passed a hand wearily over her eyes. He didn't want to continue the conversation, knowing how painful it was for her, but a part of him told him it was necessary.

"How did you get the recording?" he asked, almost regretting it when he saw her flinch.

"It was mailed to us," she whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Delivered, rather. Left on the hood of my car a few hours ago. No prints, fibers—nothing. Even in the recording all we see is the light and—well, it could be in any of the hundreds of warehouses or basements in this city."

Hagiri nodded thoughtfully to himself. One more question. "What are you going to do now?"

Shizuru sighed, opening her eyes to look at him. "You haven't changed," she said with a small smile that didn't wash the pain in her eyes. "No rest for the weary in your book, hmmm?"

"With cases like these, where every delay could be a penalty, I'm glad it's that way."

---

"Is that the Sniper?" the child asked excitedly, pressing his face against the glass as he peered out at figure across the street that was walking to a big blue motorbike. The bus was nearly empty, most passengers in too much of a hurry to get home to wait for the bus driver to fix the mysteriously busted tire. It was a good thing that it had happened at the bus stop so they could hop onto other buses. Even though the main police office was right in front of it, no officers seemed to be available to lend a hand, and so only two passengers remained, patiently waiting for the driver to finish the repair.

Not bothering to tell him to lower his voice, the man next to him nodded, eyeing the person in question warily. "I saw the bike but had to be sure. He may be a problem. Let's give that old fool outside a hand so we can get home and tell the boss."

Tilting his chin up and leaning back so he could stare up at his guardian, the boy gave him an anxious look. "Uncle isn't going to kill him so quickly, is he? I hear he's a pretty cool fighter and I want to watch! All the other fights you let me watch have been boring! They all die so quickly and so soon!"

His companion gave him an approving smile. "You're sick, kid."


End file.
